Alastair of the Glen
by Marcia Landa
Summary: Who are these mysterious strangers who keep showing up at Glenbogle? They remind Archie of somebody but he's not sure whom. Any resemblance between these oddball visitors and characters once played by Alastair MacKenzie is purely intentional.


**Alastair of the Glen**

A Monarch of the Glen/Alastair MacKenzie Fan Fiction

Marcia Lou

It began a day like any other day at Glenbogle. The sun rose over the castle. The birds chirped their morning songs. Hector bellowed at the loch to greet the day and Archie rolled over in bed placing a pillow over his head. He was in his dressing gown and yawning when he arrived at breakfast to find his parents dressed and already eating.

"You're up at your usual late hour, I see," said Hector gruffly. "You're not going to catch any worms that way, my boy."

"Really father, I'd rather not."

"Sit down, dear," Molly fluttered. "The eggs are getting cold."

Archie sat down and began to scoop an unappealing mass of scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"Katrina came round to see you." Hector said slyly. "She had a bearded chappy with her,"

"She said she'd be back later this morning," Molly added.

"Ha, I told you, you were too late," Hector thrust another parry. "The early bird catches the girl, I daresay."

Archie stabbed at his plate, stuffed a bite of cold egg into his mouth and swallowed. He pointedly ignored Hector, who always knew where to jab to cause the most pain. Archie had long been attracted to Katrina, but it seemed that every time he summoned up the nerve to approach her romantically, she was off with another boyfriend. First it was Alan, then Fergal, and now possibly this bearded chappy.

Lexie breezed into the room. "Here you go, Arch," she smiled. "I made you some fresh." She handed him a plate of still steaming eggs with buttered, if slightly burnt toast on the side.

"Thank you, Lexie." Archie smiled back as they exchanged plates.

"She treats you well," Hector grumped. "She's always trying to poison me."

A young woman appeared at the door. "Lizzie," Molly shrieked. "You've come home!" She jumped up to hug her daughter.

"Hello Mummy, Daddy," Lizzie said cordially. "Archie," she added somewhat disapprovingly. "I'd like you to meet Jimmy," she said referring to the scruffy looking man at her side. He wore a day old stubble and a manky t-shirt. He held out his hand to Hector, who shook it with some distaste.

"JPW King," Jimmy introduced himself. Archie looked on with some confusion. The man looked so familiar. Where had he seen him before? Begging on the streets?

"I see you've had a long journey," Hector said wiping his hand on his cloth napkin. "You'll want to clean up and shave, I 'm sure. Duncan!" he shouted. "Nice meeting you," he said dismissively. "Duncan!" he shouted even louder. "Where is that boy. Never here when I need him. Oh Lizzie, I'm afraid you're going to have to show him up yourself."

"I think I can manage, Daddy," she said haughtily.

"Yes, what is it?" Duncan came running into the room all a fluster.

"Duncan, show this man upstairs, and find him a razor if he lacks one."

"Have you eaten?" Molly asked.

"No, actually we're starving," Lizzie admitted.

"Then you two sit down right now, and Lexie will make you something," Molly ordered. Then she turned to Lexie who had come in to clear. "Lexie, would you be a dear and make up another two breakfasts?

"Oh, hi, Lizzie," Lexie said, giving Jimmy a quick look. "I think I can find you something." The two newcomers sat down.

"Well don't just stand there, Duncan," Hector snapped. "Take the luggage up to their rooms."

"Rooms?" Duncan inquired.

"Room," Lizzie informed him in a stage whisper. "My old room will do for both of us." Hector harrumphed.

"Would you like some toast while you're waiting?" Archie offered two uneaten slices from his plate.

"Archie, don't be disgusting," Lizzie admonished. "We'll wait for our own."

Lexie came out with two more plates. "Sir, Madame, Bon apetite," she curtsied and winked before returning to the kitchen.

"So, J.P.W. King, what do you do when you are not off gallivanting with my daughter and enjoying my table?"

"Daddy, behave yourself." Lizzie chastized.

Jimmy hurriedly swallowed a dry mouthful of eggs, coughed and sputtered. "I'm a psychotherapist.," he finally blurted out.

"Another quack like that Gerald, I suppose" Hector said.

"You suppose wrong," Lizzie retorted. "Jimmy is one of the leading practitioners in a new and exciting movement known as Dynamatology. But you wouldn't have heard of it."

"I have too," Hector insisted. "I just went to one to have a wart removed."

"Hector, that was a dermatologist." Molly chided. "Jimmy, what does a dynamatologist do?"

"I fix people's despair," he said. "First I take them back to the Garden of Eden to undo false notions of original sin. After that, anything is possible."

"It sounds like a long trip back in time and space," Archie observed sceptically.

"But well worth the effort, I'm sure," piped Molly.

Duncan bounded into the room again, nearly upsetting the coffee cups on the buffet. "Katrina is here to see you with some Ferguson guy. They're in the sitting room."

"I suppose I will have to see them," Archie said rising from his chair. "I'll throw some clothes on. Duncan, would you tell them I'll be with them shortly."

"Right away, Boss," Duncan saluted, as Archie left the room.

--------

Nearly 10 minutes later, Archie was dressed, and bounding down the stairs. He composed himself before entering the sitting room. Even so, he startled when he saw Katrina sitting on the sofa close to the bearded stranger. That face - where had he seen it before? The man looked familiar, somehow. An old schoolmate perhaps?

"Hello Archie. Nice of you to join us," Katrina said, apparently put out for being made to wait so long. "This is Ferguson, a comrade of mine from the Party."

"Hello, Ferguson," Archie nodded, extending his hand. "Or do you prefer to be called Comrade Ferguson?"

"Ferguson will do," Ferguson said sourly. He did not reach out to accept Archie's hand.

Archie sat down in a chair opposite his visitors. "What can I do for you?"

"I'll come to the point," Katrina said in a business-like manner. "Archie, you have some unused crofts on this estate. We think you should make them available to some of the villagers who are sorely in need of decent housing."

"What are you talking about, Katrina? We have 5 habitable crofts on this estate. You Golly, and Duncan live in the three of them. The other two are rented as holiday homes."

"Oh, come off it Archie. You've never been able to rent those cottages. One could go to Debbo MacGilvary so she and her brood can move out of her parents tiny house, and the other could go to the Browns who are practically drowning in the water logged shack they call home."

"We're getting a couple in today who are renting for a week," Archie said with satisfaction. "Those two cottages are potential money makers with the right sort of advertising."

"He's just another greedy capitalist, " Ferguson said. "I told you it would be a waste of time." Then turning to Archie he said, "Enjoy your filthy profits while you can, Mr. Laird. It won't be long before the workers arise and turn this place into council flats. Come on Katrina."

Katrina followed him out the door but turned over her shoulder to remark, "You disappoint me, Archie."

Archie stared dumbfounded at their departing backs and asked himself. "What did I ever see in her?" He walked into the front hall where Lexie was dusting. "If she comes back with that bloke again, tell her I'm not home."

"Right," Lexie said. "I'll tell her you're not home any time she comes, if you like."

Archie smiled. "I'll be in the estate office. Would you give me a ring when our holiday guests arrive?"

--------

Archie was at his desk paying some bills and finding his stomach tightening with each one, when Golly came in. "Archie, I thought I should tell you that Katrina's been going around with this friend of hers trying to convince us to form a labour union."

"What did you tell them?" Archie asked.

"Tell them, nothing. I got out my shotgun and ran them off the place."

"Good for you Golly. I knew I could count on you." The phone rang and Archie picked it up. "Yeah? Good. I'll be right there." He hung up the phone. "Thanks Golly. I have to go. Our guests have arrived.

Archie trotted over to the big house and entered the great hall. Molly was already there chatting with a young couple. "Archie, these are Andy and Rachel. We were just talking shop. They are artists."

Archie stopped dead in his tracks. Where did he know these people from? London maybe? They looked so familiar. The man wore a mop of brown hair, not uncommon among artists, and his companion was nothing short of fabulous in her tight jeans and top, the word "Babe" written across her chest. He should have been able to place her if he had met her before, and although he was sure he had, he couldn't.

"I'm Archie MacDonald. I hope you enjoy your stay," Archie welcomed them. As he registered them and took their cheque, he felt the knot in his stomach begin to relax. Maybe they would recommend the place to their friends and maybe he'd actually break even on the repairs they had made to the crofts. He gave the couple a map of the estate, pointed them in the proper direction, and waved as they drove down the narrow lane to their home for the week.

---------

Once again the family was seated around the dining table, this time for luncheon, and this time with the addition of Lizzie and her flavour of the month: Jimmy. "So you're not a quack," Hector questioned Jimmy amicably. "Do you work for the National Health?"

"Unfortunately, not," Jimmy said. "Dynamatology is too new a branch of science to be recognized by the petty minded-bureaucrats, but I am well trained. I even have a card." He reached into his pocket and produced a bisiness card for Hector's inspection.

"Ah, so you're a card-carrying quack," Hector chuckled. "J.P.W. King," he read aloud.

"Erm, yes, I put my initials before my name," Jimmy said.

"Quite," Hector nodded, seemingly impressed. Archie grimaced and Lizzie gave him the smirk that came with this rare gift of paternal approval.

"I think I'll pop over later and see how the young people are settling in at the croft," Molly said.

"Good," responded Archie. "Make sure they have everything they need."

"Yes but don't go harping on about your notions of art." Hector advised. "Mustn't interfere with their creative juices."

"Hector, one doesn't harp on about art," Molly said with emphasis. "One discusses it... Intelligently."

"Quite," Hector frowned.

-------

After luncheon, Molly took her bike and rode over to the croft. Archie gave Lizzie and Jimmy a tour of the estate and showed them the changes he was introducing to attract tourists. They even met a few visitors, one of whom was impressed enough to want her picture taken with the laird.

They were just returning from a walk along the nature trail when Duncan came running towards them, each arm and leg seeming to go off in a different direction, his kilt billowing with his exertions. He was shouting something incomprehensible and was so out of breath by the time he reached them, it took a moment before he could speak.

"Archie... Archie.." he finally gasped. There's a monster coming out of the loch. "It's the LOCH BOGLE MONSTER!" Archie looked both sceptical and alarmed. They all ran over to the loch to see what Duncan was babbling about. It was true: a beast was emerging from the loch. It was some kind of huge lizard with wings. It was not any known dinosaur. It was a dragon!

The dragon dragged its gigantic self onto the beach and shook all over like a dog. Golly was running towards it with his rifle raised. The dragon looked around as it fluffed up its terrible wings and yawned. Golly stopped about 50 feet in front of it and aimed.

"Stop," an urgent voice shouted from the woods. They looked to see a young man with long flowing hair running frantically towards them. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot, I say." Golly lowered his rifle a bit and stared.

"Don't shoot," the young man repeated. "He won't hurt you." He ran directly in front of Golly and his gun. He was panting but he stood defiantly, shoulders back, daring Golly to shoot him. The dragon gave out whiny sort of roar but did not advance. Golly lowered his gun.

"Don't worry, son. It's just a tranquilizer gun."

"This is Yowler, my dragon," the young man said turning towards Archie. He spoke with a thick Scottish accent not usually heard in these parts. "My name is John McGowan," he swallowed hard. "And we've come to seek refuge on your noble estate." he bowed deeply.

_Noble estate? Who talked like this anymore?_ Archie looked from John to the dragon to John again. Where had he seen this young man before? He could have been a rock star if it weren't for the kilt, the bagpipe draped over his shoulder, and the look of angelic innocence on his face. "I'm Archie MacDonald," Archie said. "What are you seeking refuge from?"

"I was once a laird like you," John said staring off into the distance as if he were picturing his former life. "But I had no source of income, except for the sheep. I couldn't pay the taxes so I foolishly rented Yowler out to a theme park. It was a terrible mistake. I got my dragon back but I lost my land and my home.

Archie nodded sympathetically.

"I heard about your attempts to save your own estate by turning your home into a nature park," John continued. "I thought that if you let Yowler live here in your wilderness, and you had some humble dwelling for me, why I could even tend your sheep if you had any. But I insist that Yowler be allowed to live free. That's my only requirement."

"Well we don't have any sheep at the present," Archie said. "But Glenbogle is a nature preserve..."

John smiled and walked over to Yowler who was wagging his tail with resounding thumps. John gave him a hearty slap on his front quarter and Yowler lowered his head to be patted. "Come meet him," John said.

Archie and the others walked tentatively towards the dragon. Archie gave him a little pat on the snout and smiled weakly. After a short pause he pronounced, "I say Yowler stays and you with him. If you think he might swim in the middle of the loch or poke his head 'round now and then for the visitors, he'd be a welcome addition to our nature preserve."

"Aye," John said. "I think he might."

"And we two can play the bagpipes together," Golly suggested.

"And do a wee jig, I reckon," John added.

"Well then, it's settled," Archie said. "Welcome to Glenbogle."

--------

Meanwhile, Molly had made her way to the artists' croft. Andy had already set up his easel and was beginning to paint, glancing back and forth between the mountain view and his canvas. Rachel was sitting nearby stringing beads onto a thread. "I make jewellery," she explained.

"Lovely," Molly remarked. "I just stopped in to see how you were doing. It looks like you're settled already."

"We have everything we need right here," Andy said, gesturing expansively with paintbrush in hand.

"May I take a peek?" she asked sweetly.

"Go right ahead," Andy allowed. Molly looked at the canvas with some surprise. It wasn't at all what she expected. It was something between a Jackson Pollock and her children's early finger paintings. "It's not to everyone's taste," Andy admitted sheepishly. "Still, I've developed quite a following recently. Among the religious set, oddly enough."

"Yes, God does work in mysterious ways," Molly agreed. "But this is very good. You've captured the colours and the majesty of the scene perfectly, and the composition is... is... very composed. I daresay it ought to appeal to the atheists, as well."

"Well I'm working on penetrating that market," Andy laughed.

"Tell you what. Why don't you two have dinner with us tonight? We'd love to have you."

"Yeah, why not?" Andy agreed. "Free food," he mouthed to Rachel when Molly was looking away towards her.

"Thank you," Rachel said. "May we offer you some tea?"

"No thank you," Molly said. "But we'll expect you at 8:00 tonight."

--------

The table was quite crowded by 8:00 that night. Not only were Andy and Rachel, and Lizzie and Jimmy present, but to Archie's dismay, Lizzie had invited Katrina and Ferguson, and of course John was there too. Yowler was off somewhere on his own. John assuredthem that he would find something to eat, but nobody was brave enough to ask what that might be.

After dinner the group retired to the sitting room to drink and chat and in Ferguson's case, smoke his pipe. Molly showed Andy and Rachel her water colours, and they were so taken with her work that they agreed to make an exchange of paintings. Ferguson, it turned out, had a fine palette for whisky, and he and Hector got along so famously that Ferguson didn't call his hosts "capitalist pigs" even once. Although obviously well bred, Jimmy had the more oikish taste of preferring vodka, but he and John had a fine time exchanging stories about their unusual pets: Yowler on John's part and a pink elephant, on Jimmy's.

The pleasant party was interrupted when Lexie came in and whispered something to Archie. "Excuse me," Archie said as he got up to follow Lexie out.

"I thought they might be travelling salesmen," she said. "But they say their car ran out of petrol just in front of our gate." Archie came to the front door and greeted the two men with caution. One was speaking in a phoney Spanish accent and the other was wearing a poorly cut suit with his shittails hanging out. The latter looked eerily familiar. Where had Archie seen him before? They certainly hadn't gone to school together.

"I am Vincente," the phoney Spaniard said. "My cousin Charlie and I, we run out of petrol. Would you please help?"

"We don't have any petrol," Archie said. "I suppose someone could drive you to the nearest station, but I don't know what's open at this time of night."

"Maybe you take us manyana?" Vincente suggested.

"If you could spare us a room," Charlie added.

"Two rooms," his cousin chided him. "We no are homosexuals."

Yeah, we can spare two rooms," Archie laughed. This day was getting weirder and weirder with all these oddball characters showing up and all of them reminding him of somebody or somebodies, he couldn't tell which. "Come on in and join the party."

The two men followed Archie into the sitting room. "These are Charlie and Vincente," Archie announced.

"Just call me Vince," Vincente said in a normal English accent. Archie looked at him queerly. "I'm half English, half Spanish," he explained, as if Archie should have known.

"Make yourselves at home," Archie said. "I'll go help Lexie sort out your rooms."

He and Lexie went upstairs and found two suitable rooms. Lexie went to get clean sheets and Archie wondered how Yowler might be doing. He turned out the light to see out the window better. There it was - that face again. It was looming outside the window and then it was gone.

This time Archie knew exactly where he had seen the face before. It was in Cornwall, where he and Justine had gone on holiday. It was the ghost of a soldier killed in World War II that had haunted the inn where they had stayed. Archie hadn't really believed what he had seen at the time, but here it was again. Now it was walking down the dimly lit hall. What was it doing at Glenbogle? Archie followed it as if in a trance.

"Archie, where are you going?" Lexie laughed as she returned with the sheets.

"Erm, nowhere in particular," Archie said hurriedly. "Let me help you make the beds."

-------

And so ends all that really matters in the telling of this story. Archie went to bed that night wondering if his dreams could be any more bizarre than this day. Or maybe, he thought, he was now in a dream and he was about to wake up from it. Perhaps he would find out when he fell asleep. Zzzzzz...


End file.
